Jim Moriarty's Daughter
by socially-awkward-butterfly
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on Jim Moriarty and his thirteen year old daughter, Jenny Moriarty. Send me a prompt and I'll try to fill it. T for language.
1. Hide and Seek

The young girl crept through Jim Moriarty's mansion with great caution, taking great consideration with where she placed her feet. She knew what would happen if she was caught.

Slowly, she made her way towards where she knew she would be safe hiding. She was so close...

A pair of strong arms wrapping around her and the clicking of expensive shoes on a hardwood floor made her groan from frustration.

"Really, that's just cheating. I didn't even know Sebby was back from his job," Jen Moriarty said. Her father laughed at the way she attempted to look intimidating while being held by the sniper.

"You have to learn to expect the unexpected," Jim Moriarty drawled to her. She stuck her tongue out and looked up at Sebastian Moran.

"Hey Sebby. You can put me down now." He looked over at his boss who shook his head once with a very serious expression, too serious considering it was just a game of hide-and-seek. But then, him and his thirteen year old daughter took a lot very seriously when it came to competition.

"Sorry, Jen. Boss says no," Sebastian said with a small smile. She threw her hands up in the air.

"You always listen to what he says. Maybe you could listen to me for once and possibly put me down, Sebby. Pleeeeeeeease," she said, making her best pouty face. Seb just laughed and shook his head.

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"He pays me. You don't."

"Yeah, well, you win, Dad. Can you tell Sebby to put me down now?" He walked closer to his daughter, a smile on his face.

"Sorry? What was that?"

"I said you win," she grumbled, hating admitting defeat, especially to her dad.

"Do I now?"

"Yeah, you do. Only 'cause you cheated and got your sniper to do it for you."

"Yes, well-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know. The great consulting criminal doesn't like getting his hands dirty. Can you tell Sebby to put me down now? Believe it or not, this isn't very comfortable." He nodded once to his sniper, who instantly put her down. She wrapped her arms around him, having missed him because he was always gone for so long whenever her father sent him on jobs. He hugged her back before she let go and turned around to face the gloating that was sure to come from her father.

"Go on," she said tiredly.

"What are you talking about," he asked with a smirk.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I really don't," he said in that stupid Irish accent that got on her nerves.

"Yes, you do." He shrugged.

"I'm just saying, I told you I could beat you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"And now you have to do the dishes for a whole week."

"Mhmm."

"And I'm going to go plan Sherlock's demise now. Toodles."

"Wait, who's Sherlock?" He turned back around to face her.

"You remember Sherlock, right? The tall one with the cheekbones." She remembered, but she could use this as an opportunity to get back at her father for cheating to get out of dish duty.

"Oooohhhhhh. The one you're obsessed with?" His pale cheeks turned red.

"I'm not obsessed," he mumbled. Her eyes widened as she realized why he was obsessed.

"Dad. You're in love with him, aren't you?" His cheeks got a deep shade of scarlet and he stared down at his shoes.

"No." She squealed.

"Yes, you are. You are definitely in love."

"I'm really not."

"You are. You remember him from way back. All the way back to Carl Powers, you remember him. You are certainly in love." He shook his head at her.

"I'm not."

"You are." Her face fell.

"Dad, you can't kill him! If you play games with him, he'll hate you! No, no, no, no. You're terrible at this whole romance thing."

"It's not romance. I'm bored." She rolled her eyes.

"Dad, at least let me help you plan this one."

"Absolutely not. This is between me and Sherlock."

"Uh-huh. You can go play with Sherlock, then, I have homework."

"No you don't. You're homeschooled."

"Yeah, and my idiotic teacher gave me an essay on the best way to dispose of a body. Like I said, I have homework to go do. Alone. In my room. All by myself." He didn't seem to get the hint that she didn't want to be alone, so she sighed dramatically for effect.

"You can come work in the office, but no getting in the way, and no threatening my secretaries. D'you know how hard it is to find replacements?"

"Alright! I'll be right back, I have to grab my laptop!" She was already running up the stairs. She loved working in her dad's office. He was always there when he had stuff to plan, and she came so she could actually see him. She ran back down the stairs and into the car, her dad watching her with a small smile on his face. He really did love her, especially when she got this excited.


	2. Flappy Bird

'Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive' Jim Moriarty rolled his eyes as the ringtone filled the pool that was empty except for three people in plain sight and at least ten snipers pointing their guns at Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

"D'you mind if I get that," he asked the two men.

"Oh, please, you've got the rest of your life," Sherlock replied. He took his phone out and rolled his eyes at the caller ID: Jenny Moriarty.

"Hello?"

"Dad, your Flappy Bird score is twelve, right?"

"Yes, of course it is, what d'you want?"

"Thirteen! I got thirteen!"

"SAY THAT AGAIN! Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you, and I will skin you."

"First of all, we live in the same house. You don't have to find me. Secondly, I'm not lying. Thirteen, Dad. Thirteen. It's pretty easy, I found some cheats online. You can share them if you come home now."

"Wait." He lowered his phone and adopted a dramatic tone, pretending that he wasn't having a conversation with his daughter about Flappy Bird.

"Sorry. Wrong day to die."

"Oh. Did you get a better offer," Sherlock said sarcastically. Jim smirked. He did get a better offer.

"You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." He put his phone back to his ear, resuming his conversation.

"If you have what you say you have, I'll make you rich. If not, I'll make you into shoes."

"You forget I've spent the past thirteen years with you. Your threats don't scare me." Jim snapped loudly and exited.

"They should."

"They don't. But I'd be a very pretty pair of shoes, don't you think?" Jim smiled as he climbed back in his car. Only his daughter could accidentally save his life by calling about Flappy Bird cheat codes.

If you sent in a prompt, I swear I'll eventually get around to it! I've had these written for a while now, though, so I'm posting these while I'm doing NaNoWriMo. I'll get to your prompts, and sorry for the long wait.

Please read, review, and send a prompt!


	3. Jim Meets Jen's Boyfriend

Jen was a nervous wreck. Her boyfriend of three months had finally asked about meeting her parents. Sure, they were only thirteen, and this relationship probably wouldn't last very long at all, but she wanted it to end because of a reason that wasn't her father. Nervously, she joined him in the living room where he was watching TV on his day off.

"Hey, Jenny. Come to watch telly with your Daddy?" She shook her head and sat down across from him, biting her lip.

"Um, no, actually."

"Something wrong, munchkin?"

"Maybe. Yeah, I may or may not have a boyfriend that I didn't tell you about for three months." Jim snorted.

"Obviously. Seb and I already found out about him. His background checks out okay. Can't figure out for the life of me why you would want to date a good guy." She nodded.

"Okay. That's good that you know about him."

"Yeah, I suppose. Is there something you're not telling me?" She nodded.

"Yeah. Actually, two things."

"Go on."

"First of all, he wants you and his parents to have dinner together."

"Alright. I can pretend to be normal for a few hours, if that's what you're worried about." She took a breath. This was going to be tough.

"Actually, it's the second thing I'm more worried about."

"What is it? You know you can tell me anything."

"Um, he may or may not be Hamish Watson-Holmes." Jim's eyes practically flew out of their sockets.

"What?! No, I checked. His name was James Follen."

"James Follen is an identity I created for when you and Sebby went snooping around for my boyfriend. Hamish made a fake identity for me, too, so you or Sherlock wouldn't go snooping around and make us break up." Jim put his head in his hand. Did she really have to go date the son of his biggest enemy?

"Does Sherlock know yet?"

"No. Hamish said it could wait until you showed up at 221B." She nervously glanced up at him and he sighed. He would do anything for her.

"Go get ready and text Hamish we're coming. Tell him to make sure neither John nor Sherlock have their guns within reach. I'm not bringing any weapons." She smiled and hugged her dad.

"Thanks, Daddy." Both Moriartys made their way upstairs, getting ready for whatever might happen tonight. Jim came down in one of his impeccable suits, Jen in a simple red dress Hamish had complimented numerous times.

"Hey, Haym, I'm on my way now. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

"How's he taking it?"

"Pretty well. Did you take their guns and anything that could be used as an improvised weapon?"

"Yeah. No weapons on him?"

"Nope. Ready?"

"Yeah. See you soon, Jen."

"Bye, Haym." She hung up and climbed into the car, followed by Jim.

"Promise you won't go all consulting criminal on any of them?" He snorted.

"Don't even know what that's supposed to mean."

"Don't make death threats. Or threats of any kind. And don't be creepy. Or scare off Haym."

"Haym," he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, Haym. Don't scare him off."

"Alright, Jenny. You worry too much. Just going to have dinner with the enemies and their son." She gave him a stern look.

"No. Tonight, it's not 'the enemies and their son'. It's my boyfriend and their parents. Please, don't mess this up for me, Dad. Haym and I have a really great time together, I don't want us to have to break up because of your obsession."

"Alright. It's not a big deal. I'm going to meet your boyfriend's parents. We are going to sit down and have a civilized dinner without any death threats. How about that?"

"Yes. Okay, we're here. Oh God." She nervously climbed out of the car, hiding her dad from view like her and Hamish had agreed, so they could actually be let inside. She rang the doorbell and John Watson answered.

"Hi, you must be Harriet Gonley-" He stopped when he saw Jim Moriarty standing behind her. He slammed the door in her face, and it was opened by Hamish.

"Jen! Mr. Moriarty, nice to meet you. Come in, sorry about him." Hamish opened the door and shook Jim's hand.

"You must be Hamish. Please, you can call me Jim." He smiled at Jim, then him and Jen hugged.

"It's been a whole two weeks since I saw you! I missed you, Haym!" Smiling brightly, they headed upstairs, holding hands, trailed by Jim. They paused before entering 221B. John was sitting in his chair, probably wondering how he just saw someone who was supposed to be dead. Sherlock was trying to get John to tell him what he saw. They froze in the doorway. Sherlock still hadn't seen Jim.

"Hello. Harriet Gonley, I presume?" Jen bit the inside of her cheek before shaking her head.

"Not quite. Jen Moriarty." Sherlock froze as he noticed Jim behind them. He smiled. Actually smiled.

"Hamish, I am very proud of you. That must've taken some serious hacking. John, however, is not happy." John had looked up when he heard the name 'Moriarty'.

"Yeah, just a bit mad that the man who strapped me to a bomb is still alive and here in my home!" Jim stepped forward before Jen could stop him.

"If it makes you feel better, I never planned on actually detonating it."

"Dad, stop. You promised you'd be nice."

"I am being nice. I just told him I never planned on blowing him up." Her face was very red now.

"This isn't going to end well," she whispered to Hamish, who was standing and staring at this interaction with horror. He nodded his agreement.

"You made me jump off a roof!" Jim shook his head.

"I didn't make you. You decided to."

"Dad, please stop. Seriously." Jim rolled his eyes.

"D'you think we could stop bringing up all the bad things I did? It's making Jen and Hamish uncomfortable." Sherlock and John were staring at Jim in discomfort. It was clear they wanted him and Jen out of their home, but Hamish was gripping Jen's hand comfortingly, and that was all that Sherlock cared about. Hamish was happy. So what if it was with the daughter of a psychopath?

"Come in. Dinner's cooked. Don't worry, Hamish made it," Sherlock said with a smile. Jen and Hamish seemed to relax, and John was no longer staring at Jim.

"Haym's cooking is heaven," she told her dad, who smiled at how much more relaxed she seemed. He couldn't stand to see her in pain, even if it was only emotional.

The rest of the night, they spent laughing and talking and completely avoiding the subject of the rivalry between Sherlock and Jim. Before they left, Jim whispered a quiet thank you to Sherlock for accepting that Hamish and Jen were happy together, even though she was his daughter.

These two are sort of my OTP and I wanted to introduce Hamish, because he'll be a major character throughout the one-shots. Please read, review, and remember to suggest any prompts you might have (that I swear I'm not ignoring I'm just really busy)!


	4. That Time Of The Month

Jim Moriarty was confused, something that didn't happen very often. Jen had been talking to him about a movie she watched when she spontaneously burst into tears because they weren't making a sequel. He was lost. She hated the movie, and when he said so, she'd stormed upstairs, screaming that he didn't love her or care about her. He was standing in the middle of the living room, extremely confused, when he decided he should try to comfort her. He walked up to her room and lightly knocked on the door.

"Go away." He wasn't going to go away and leave her alone and sad, so he tried to open the door. She'd locked it. He easily picked the lock and walked into her room, sitting on the edge of her bed, where she was curled up in a little ball. She'd changed out of her jeans and t-shirt and was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and an overly large hoodie. And crying.

"Jenny, I'm sorry. I do love you very much. What did I do wrong?" Suddenly, she started laughing, which confused him even further.

"Dad, I just imagined a jelly bean." He raised an eyebrow.

"Jennifer, are you on drugs right now?"

"No. But jelly beans..." She trailed off, her giggles taking over. Her laughs stopped and she grimaced, wrapping her arms around her stomach and groaning.

"What's wrong? Are you going to be sick?"

"Cramps," she wheezed.

"Just cramps?" She threw a pillow at his head, which was so unexpected, he didn't even try to dodge it and it hit him in the face.

"I feel like my stomach is being stabbed repeatedly with a knife, and you say 'just cramps'?" Jim was very lost now. What was wrong with her?

"I'm going to take you to the hospital. Come on," he said, standing up. She started laughing again.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because you want to take me to the hospital for cramps."

"You sad you feel like you're being stabbed in the stomach repeatedly."

"I do. But I want ice cream."

"Alright?"

"Get me ice cream." Jim wasn't going to question this. He went down to the kitchen and got her a bowl of vanilla ice cream, wondering why she would want ice cream if she felt like she was being stabbed repeatedly. He brought the ice cream to her room. She frowned at it.

"Is something wrong with it?"

"I want chocolate marshmallow. Please."

"You ate the last of it yesterday." She burst into sobs again. Jim put the ice cream down on her dresser and sat down on the bed next to her.

"Jenny, what's wrong?"

"We're out of chocolate marshmallow ice cream." She continued crying, and Jim pulled his phone out and texted Sebby to buy the requested ice cream. He sat with her, trying to calm her down, until Sebby thankfully arrived with her ice cream. He brought it up to her room.

"I, uh, got the ice cream, boss." He held it out to Jim, but Jen eagerly peeled back the lid and grabbed the spoon from the now-melted bowl of vanilla ice cream and began to eat. Jim took the gallon of ice cream from her and she frowned.

"Give me back my ice cream, Dad."

"No. I'm going to put it in a bowl. You can't eat all of this, you'll get sick." She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"Last chance. Give me back my ice cream." He shook his head and she calmly placed the spoon inside of the carton before standing up and walking out of the room. The men exchanged a glance, before they decided to go look for her.

They found her, three minutes later, in Jim's bedroom. She was standing in his closet with a pair of scissors, holding one of his suits. Except it didn't look like a suit anymore. It looked like a bunch of pieces of fabric. She'd cut it up into a bunch of small pieces, and they were now laying on the floor. She reached back into his closet and pulled out one of his favorite ties. He ran over and grabbed the scissors from her before she did anymore damage.

"Jen, why did you cut up my suit?!"

"You took away my ice cream," she said with a shrug. She walked back over to Sebby.

"Can I have the ice cream, please?" The sniper handed it over quickly, not wanting to make her anymore mad. She sat happily on the floor of her father's bedroom, eating the ice cream. Sebby saw the glance Jim gave him and walked off, knowing there was about to be an argument between the Moriartys that he wanted to stay out of.

"Jennifer, why did you cut up my suit?"

"Because you love them more than me. You took away my ice cream."

"That doesn't mean you go cutting up my belongings."

"I'm a Moriarty. I ruin things. It's what you taught me."

"Yes, I did, but don't ruin my things."

"Too late. Should've listened to me. I did warn you."

"Jenny, what's wrong? You're laughing one minute, crying over ice cream the next, and getting cramps that are apparently not 'just cramps'. What's wrong?" She sighed and stood up.

"Girl things I'd rather not discuss."

"No, tell me."

"It's my 'time of the month', Dad. My hormones are all crazy right now." A deep blush spread over Jim's face.

"I really don't want to talk about this," he muttered. She smiled before grimacing and wrapping an arm around her stomach again.

"Yeah, I'm going to go eat ice cream and cry over sad movies now. If you hear screaming, ignore it." Jim hugged her and she flung ice cream at his face with her spoon. Jim sighed as she walked away. Maybe he should call Hamish. He always managed to calm her down, even when Jim couldn't.

I swear I'm not ignoring your prompts- I've just been busy lately without much time to write. These were all written from way back in August. Read, review, and leave a prompt. And I do apologize for the wait of everyone who suggested something.


	5. Doctor Who

Jim sighed. It was getting late, nearly midnight. Hamish had come over earlier, around three in the afternoon, and had gone upstairs with Jen almost immediately. Neither had come down since, telling Jim not to interrupt them. As much as Jim trusted Hamish, Sherlock and John did not trust Jim (he didn't blame them), and Jim knew it was probably time for him to head home.

He knocked on Jen's door. No answer. He opened it to find the lights off and Jen and Hamish sitting on the floor in front of Jen's TV, staring intently at it. Neither of them heard him come in. He switched the TV off and the lights on. Both groaned and covered their eyes.

"Dad, what the heck?"

"Sorry, it's nearly midnight. Hamish, you better go home before John and Sherlock start to worry that I murdered you." Hamish, to Jen's relief, realized it was a joke and that Jim would not murder him. Probably.

"Daaaaaad," Jen whined. "We were watching Doctor Who."

"What is that?"

"A show. About a time-travelling alien who lives in a blue box."

"Sounds awful." Hamish leaned over and whispered something to Jen that made her giggle. She looked up at Jim and nodded.

"Definitely," she said with a small smile on her face.

"I'm not going to ask. Would you like a ride home, Hamish?" They climbed up and Hamish nodded.

"Yes, please, Mr. Moriarty." Jim rolled his eyes.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you can call me Jim?"

"No, that's weird," Jen said scrunching up her nose. "Don't call him Jim," she added to Hamish. Hamish nodded.

"Yes, ma'am." She smiled at her boyfriend. He was so cute.

"Seriously, I'm right here. Most girls wouldn't even hold hands with their boyfriends in front of their dads. You two are... Doing whatever that is right in front of me, and I'm an unstable psychopath." Jen rolled her eyes.

"We're not even touching, Mr. Moriarty." Jim sighed and pulled his keys out of his pajama pants pocket.

"Let's go. Don't talk on the way there, either, I have a headache."

"You should take some Tylenol or something, Dad."

"I just need sleep." She shrugged and they climbed in the car. Neither of them said anything, but Jen began to absentmindedly hum the Doctor Who theme song. Hamish smiled and joined in, the humming growing gradually louder, until Jim turned around and shouted.

"Stop that!"

"Chill, Mr. Grumpy Pants."

"I could murder you and make it look like an accident, Jenny."

"I find your death threats adorable, Dad, but everyone would know it was you."

"How?"

"I have a murdering psycho for a dad. Not a hard jump to make. Besides, you just threatened me in front of Haym, he would tell the police."

"No, I wouldn't." Jen pouted and turned to her boyfriend.

"Why not?"

"He'd kill me, too. Just write his name in Sharpie across your arm."

"Jerk," she said, jokingly punching his arm. He wrapped an arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. Jim glanced this in the rearview mirror and raised an eyebrow.

"Hamish, I like you. You're a nice kid. But I will make you hurt if you don't stop touching my daughter right now," he said in a cool voice.

"Told you he was a Dalek," Hamish said before taking his arm off of her.

"Yeah, but he doesn't take orders from anyone. Except me, when I'm in a bad mood. So he'd be head of the Daleks."

"Jenny, remember how we talked about me not taking orders from you? At all?"

"Really? Because I seem to remember last week, you agreed to take me shopping after I cut up your favorite tie and said your suits would have the same fate if you didn't comply."

"Shut up," he grumbled. Hamish and her exchanged a secret smile. They began humming the tune again, resulting in more half-hearted death threats.

"DAD, DON'T BLINK," Jen shouted suddenly, which made Jim flinch violently and curse in fluent Latin, a habit he'd acquired when Jen had repeated all of his curse words at age five. Her and Hamish laughed in the back seat and Jim took a few breaths.

"Jennifer, why the hell would you scream at me not to blink while I drive?" His tone was one of forced calm, which would have terrified anyone else, but she'd grown accustomed to his mood swings over the past thirteen years.

"Weeping angels, Dad. Just trying to save your life."

"Weeping angels? That sounds like something I'd call a crying police force."

"No, they're deadly statues. If they touch you, you get transported back in time."

"I thought you said they were deadly?"

"They are. You can't go forward, and so you get stuck in the past."

"They let you live to death, Mr. Moriarty," Hamish supplied.

"What does that have to do with blinking?"

"They can only move when you can't see them. If you look at them, they have to stay still."

"Right. So they're statues... That can kill you when you blink, without actually killing you?"

"Yep."

"I will never understand how you two like that show."

"You don't have to, Dad, that's what Sebby's for."

"What?"

"Sebby watches it, too. He has a collection of sonic screwdrivers."

"Did you turn my sniper and best friend into a weird fangirl, Jenny?"

"No, that's stupid. I turned him into a Whovian."

"A Who- Y'know, I'm regretting starting this conversation. It's like trying to decipher a foreign language, listening to you."

"Wouldn't have to do that if you travelled in the TARDIS," Jenny, said, which left Jim sighing and shaking his head, deciding not to interrupt the two of them humming the theme song again.


End file.
